


Take Flight but Don't Forget the Nest

by metaphoricheart



Series: Robin'verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Addiction recovery, Artist Castiel, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Crying Dean, Curtain Fic, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Hunter Retirement, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Multi, Other, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Platonic Life Partners, Post Trials, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Post-Episode: s08e23 Swan Song, Post-Hell, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queerplatonic Relationships, Teenchesters, Trials of Hell, Wee!chesters, Weechesters, Young Dean, Young Sam, queerplatonic life partners, robin'verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-08 03:22:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5481494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metaphoricheart/pseuds/metaphoricheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New installment in Robin'verse/Robin Egge Blue. Two tales Dean coming to terms with Sam going to college: Once in 2014(ish) and once in 1999. Sam has a habit of dropping big information and then getting sick. Dean has a habit of being persuaded by a snotty, glassy-eyed puppy face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2014 Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first Robin Egg Blue to have multiple chapters because it is 20 pages long right now and still not done.
> 
> Those are roughly the dates I calculated for Sam to be around 17. It should be 2000 but I'm making it earlier on in the school year so it would still be 1999. 
> 
> I hope the amount of chapters isn't boring...if it is let me know. They will come out probably quickly at first and then slowly as I finish up.
> 
> I'm not really sure the timeline of where this all is because I still haven't gotten Sam explictely to the doctor and whatnot...so...maybe one day I'll order them...

Dean walked into the room Sam had made into a makeshift office and library. They had painted it a pale, faint yellow, but at this point there wasn’t much wall left to see. Papers, clippings, drawings, printed items, Sam’s notes were pinned on almost every inch of wall space in the room. To Dean it looked like absolute chaos, but Sam understood what everything was, and got very annoyed if you moved papers around without asking. The papers on the wall ranged from everything about hunting information to Harry Potter to animal shelters to environmental racism to statistics… 

Then there was Sam, slumped over in his chair at his “desk”, asleep. The desk was actually one of those tables that get used at events that fold the legs under that they found someone threw out even though there was nothing wrong with the table. They had splurged on Sam’s desk chair, because Sam’s body is always in chronic pain which couldn’t take being seated in something hard for long periods of time.

Dean sighed. Sam always overestimated his body’s capabilities. It worried Dean to know end, and frustrated Sam. That with the new anti psychotic meds Sam was taking, were making him sleepy, drowsy, and just all around tired. Dean had called the doctor after three days of Sam falling asleep everywhere, saying that this drug just wasn’t working. However, he was reminded that they needed to wait at least two weeks for Sam’s body to adjust, and then another two weeks to see how much good it was doing. Unless dire side effects occurred, Sam would have to tough it out. They were one week in, and Sam was falling asleep everywhere a lot less.

Walking over to Sam, Dean palmed Sam’s forehead to check for fever. Sam didn’t seem to be having a flare up today, he was just tired.

Sam wasn’t taking too well to being awakened by physical touch these days. A few weeks before Sam had a particular awful flashback, and had been jumpy and afraid of touches ever since. Dean and Cas couldn’t figure it out, since Sam was always the most cuddly out of all of them. But Cas sighed and reminded Dean that Sam would talk about it when Sam wanted to. 

“Sammy,” Dean stated gently but loudly. He kept saying “Sammy”, until Sam stirred and his eyes fluttered open with a dazed expression.

“Hey kiddo, there’s a rule about this remember? No sleeping in chairs.”

“Except for the big arm chair in the living room,” Sam muttered back. “That is not against the rules”.

Dean smiled, and forced himself to not reach out and ruffle Sam’s hair. Sam sounded like a petulant five year old.

Glancing down at the desk, Dean saw the papers scattered in front of Sam. College. Community College. Going to college with chronic illness. 

Dean stopped himself from blurting out what the fuck, using his techniques he used in AA. He looked up to ask Sam what all of this was about and why Sam hadn’t told him or was looking at all of this stuff without him and Cas...but 

“You’re in your library cave, dude,” Dean stated clearly. Sam was looking around the with confusion with the look in his eyes he got when he started to dissociate. Sam nodded in response. Dean again resisted the urge to reach out and squeeze Sam’s shoulder.

This would have to be dealt with another time. It’s fine. It’s fine. I can deal with it when it is time to deal with it. It’s not a worry right this exact second. Right now, put Sam to bed. 

“Alright, enough of this. Can you stand up?” 

Sam stared up at him confused. “What?” Sam blinked hard and started muttering to himself five things he saw in the room, four things he can hear, three things he can feel, and two things he could smell. Dean waited until he was finished grounding himself before repeating himself.

“Sammy, you cannot sleep in this chair. Can you stand up or do you need the wheelchair so you can go to the couch?” 

Normally, Dean would have just had Sam lean on him and they would walk to wherever Sam needed to go slowly. But Sam wasn’t into touching these days, so the wheelchair that only came out when things got really, really bad, was beginning to be used more.

“Dean?” Sam asked sounding like his five year old self once again.

“Yeah, Sam?” 

“I’m sleepy.”

Dean half laughed, half sighed. “I know, we’re gonna get you to the couch and you can go back to sleep, ok?” 

“Oh, ok. Sleepy.” 

Sam was too dissociated, sleepy, and just generally out of it to be trusted to walk by himself. Dean coaxed him into the wheelchair, and wheeled him into the living room. Sam flumped himself onto the couch Covering Sam with a blanket, and placing a pillow under his head, Dean watched Sam drift off to sleep quickly. Normally, Dean would rub Sam’s back, or run his fingers through Sam’s hair, but not today. It was starting to physically hurt Dean somewhere, in the pit of his stomach and the hollow of chest, that he couldn’t touch is baby brother. It had become such a part of their lives now, so much so, that Dean hadn’t noticed until he now that he can’t touch. 

A wet spot was trailing down his cheek. Dean blinked in surprise; he hadn’t noticed he was crying. But now that he had noticed, he couldn’t get himself to stop. He couldn’t wake Sam, but he couldn’t be too far away either. Dean went into the Heinous Kitchen and sunk onto the floor, his back up against the cabinets under the sink and counter. 

The front door opened, and closed. Cas’s somewhat clunky footsteps moved towards the Heinous kitchen, grocery bags rustling. He was putting all of them onto the floor by the fridge when he noticed Dean on the floor crying.

Cas hurried over and bent in front of Dean. “Dean, what’s wrong? Is Sam okay?” 

Cas hadn’t seen Dean cry like this for quite some time, and it was after something truly awful. 

“He’s asleep. He’s out of it. He’s ok. I just…” Dean managed to get out to Cas between hitching breaths that Sam was alright, before his breath started coming out in short, hard gasps. 

Cas moved himself to sit crossed legged in front of Dean. “Baby, you need to slow it down or you’re going to go into a panic attack.” 

Dean looked up at him with eyes that screamed I can’t stop. I can’t have a panic attack either. I can’t survive that. 

“Yes, you can.” He pulled Dean’s hand to rest on the Cas’s chest. Cas breathed in and out deliberately and timed. Dean slowly managed to mimic Cas’s breathing, while Cas rubbed his thumb over Dean’s hand on his chest. Dean had avoided the panic attack, but he was still crying. 

Cas wanted Dean to get off the hard kitchen floor, but he didn’t want to stress him out anymore than he already was. So he moved himself to sit next to Dean instead and wrapped his arms around him. Dean fell into them, melting, and continued to cry, soaking the front of Cas’s shirt. Cas ran his hands up and down Dean’s back, and through his hair, while whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay my earthling, it’s okay”.

Thirty minutes later Dean had stopped crying. His eyes were puffy and his head hurt. Cas stood up and handed him two ibprofens and a tall glass of water.

“Drink all of it, it will help you be less dehydrated. Then you will feel better.”

Dean slowly drank the water, and ten minutes later it was gone.

“How about we move off this floor now, hmm?” 

Cas helped Dean stand up, and managed to keep his mouth shut about Dean’s grunts as his knees pained him. Now was not the time to try that discussion again. Wrapping his arm around Dean’s waist, they went to the living room. The arm chair was truly very large, so they both fit on it. They wrapped up in each other. Cas pulled a blanket around them and flicked on the TV with the volume on low but the sound could still be faintly heard, with the subtitles on. Cas kept soothing Dean by rubbing his back, his arms, his head. until Dean started to drowsily slump against Cas more and more.

Eventually Cas was in the room with an asleep, exhausted, cried out Dean resting on him, and one sick giant kiddo sleeping on the couch. Everything was getting hard again, too hard. But he needed to be strong for Sam and Dean, especially now that he was only Dean’s source of physical comfort. 

Cas turned his attention back to the TV, ignoring his own despairing stress tears, running down his face and into Dean’s hair.


	2. 1999 Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets in a fight at school.

Dean was sipping his coffee and admiring the waitress’s ass who had given it to him, when his phone rang.

“Hello?” Dean said into the phone.

“Is this Dean Winchester?” 

Dean stiffened in his seat. “Who’s asking?” 

“Mr. Oshan….Sam Winchester’s principal?”

Dean was already throwing cash onto the table and abandoning his half eaten sandwich. 

“What’s wrong with Sam?” He asked harshly.

“Mr. Winchester, is it correct that you share guardianship of Sam with a John Winchester?” 

“Yes,” Dean said hurriedly, waving his hand around even though the man on the other line couldn’t see him. “Tell me what the hell is wrong with Sam!”

If the principa; was bothered by Dean’s brash behaviour, he didn’t convey it over the phone. “Sam was involved in a physical fight with another student. School protocol is to call the student’s guardian before implementing disciplinary action.”

Dean nearly laughed. Sam, teacher’s pet, Sam was involved in a fight? “Why what happened?”

“Mr. Winchester, it is best if you just come to the school to discuss this.”

Dean sighed and started the ignition. “Fine. Just answer me this, is he hurt?”

Mrs. Oshan replied, “Um, he say’s he’s not. From what I can see the only injury he seems to have is the start of a black-eye.”

Dean hung up immediately after that. Sam “say’s he’s not hurt” every other week at the least. Rule number one with Sam: Never believe “the I’m fine Dean I’m not sick and I’m not hurt fuck off” act.

After asking a few very unhelpful students and faculty where the principal's office was, Dean slammed the door open without knocking. 

Mr. Oshan’s head snapped up, and Sam whipped around in the seat in front of the principal's desk. He quickly realized it was Dean, and then dropped his head, and ignored Dean’s attempts to make eye contact. Dean half expected to hear Sam say an exasperated “Dean”, for entering a principal's office in such a manner at a school. But Sam was silent with his long hair covering his face.

“I take it you’re Dean Winchester,” Mr. Oshan said, folding his hands together before placing them on the desk.

“Yes that would be me,” Dean stated bluntly, while sitting into the chair next to Sam. He leaned back into the chair, and folded his arms.

Mr. Oshan leaned forward, his eyes sweeping Dean up and down. His eyes lingered on the leather jacket emanating cigarette smoke each time Dean moved his arms. Lastly, his eyes lingered on Dean’s face, who was just staring stonily back at the principle.

“You’re awfully young to be someone’s guardian,” Mr. Oshan said suspiciously. 

Sam stiffened next to Dean. _Shit_. Dean quickly realized he needed to play nice or the principal could call CPS, regardless of Dean’s guardianship status.

Dean moved from his relaxed position so he was sitting with his back straight. “I’m 21...sir. Our dad moves around a lot for his work. It’s really stressful for him, so I look out for Sam.” 

Sam was starting to practically vibrate in the chair. Dean moved his the toe of his boot on to the tip of Sam’s. _Relax. You need to relax. It’ll be fine._  
Sam took a subtle deep breath, and began to calm down, hitting Dean’s foot. _Okay. Sorry._

“I suppose...well, that makes sense,” Mr. Orshan said slowly, before clearing his throat. “I uh, um, anyway let’s discuss Sam’s involvement in the physical altercation.”

Sam shifted in his seat, and hunched even more on himself. Dean nodded as a signal to continue.

“Well, Sam, was found punching another student around. The other student was retaliating. There was a 5th grader standing off to the side of the altercation. The other student claims that Sam called him names before starting to hit him, and the fifth grader just also happened to be in the side hallway.”

Dean leaned back in his chair again. “I assume Sam has a different version of events, sir?”

Mr. Orshan nodded. “Sam, would you like to tell your errr...brother…,” he looked to Dean to make sure he was correct in that Dean is Sam’s brother. Dean nodded. “Would you tell your brother what happened?”

Sam sighed, and looked up at Dean for the first time. Dean saw the start of Sam’s black eye and internally grimaced. A quick silent communication passed through the two brothers _Sam, play nice._

Pulling himself up out of his hunched position, sitting up straight, and folding his hands together Sam told his version of events in an even, and clear voice. “Matt was grabbing the back of the kid’s shirt, and was about to push him down on the floor. We were the only ones in the hall. I guess he didn’t notice me until I ran up and pulled him off, and he got angry. He threw a punch, and I threw one back...I was just trying to help the kid.”

Dean nodded and turned back to the principal. “Well your heard him…”

The principal sighed. “I did. I don’t know which version of events is correct. I am inclined to punish all parties equally.” 

Sam’s head snapped up, “You’re going to punish the kid being bullied? He didn’t do anything but exist in that hallway. What kind of message does that send? We had an assembly about abuse yesterday, and now you’re going to punish the bullied kid like it’s his fault?” Sam glared.

Dean was frozen between pride and terrified anger. He had told Sam to play nice, if the principal decided to call CPS, Dean was...he forced himself to pay attention.

The principal was blinking at Sam. Sam was still glaring at the principal not dropping his gaze from the principal’s flabbergasted eyes.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Oshan, broke eye contact. He shifted in his seat and folded his hands together on the table, staring at them for a few seconds.

“Well, Sam, you have a point. I will not punish the student being bullied. You will receive detention tomorrow afternoon. If you ever speak to me again in this matter, or if you ever involved in an incident like this ever again, I will personally make sure every single college you apply to hears about it.”

Dean was breathing a sigh of relief before his snapped abruptly to the principal. “The colleges Sam applies too…?” 

Sam went rigid. His face turned red. Mrs. Oshan raised his eyebrows and his eyes flitted between to the two brothers.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester. According to the guidance counselor, Sam has a real shot here at getting into a good college on a scholarship. We wouldn’t want to mess that up, now would we?” He finished turning back to Sam.

“No, sir, we wouldn’t.” Sam mumbled.

Dean cleared his throat. “Would that be all?”

The principal nodded. “That is all. Sam will recieve details of his detention tomorrow morning during homeroom”.

Dean grabbed Sam’s bag from the floor much to Sam’s dismay and started walking out the door.

Sam turned awkwardly around and muttered “thank you”, before following after his brother who was stalking down the hallway.

Sam sighed. Dean wasn’t supposed to have found about the college applications. No one was. Now Dean was mad.

Sam slumped in the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean was sitting stiffly and resolutely not looking anywhere but the road. Sam opened his mouth a few times to try and say his brother’s name, but failed until he finally screwed up the courage after the fifth try.

“Dean I--”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam.” 

“Please De--”

“For once in your life, shut the fuck up when someone tells you to shut the fuck up.”

Sam smashed his mouth shut, and kept it shut all the way back to the motel. He kept it shut while Dean looked at his black eye and handed him some ice Dean mechanically but gently poked it.

“You’re eye is gonna stay in your socket. You’re good,” Dean snapped without the usual teasing tone he used on Sam after clearing Sam as okay.

Sam sat at the kitchenette table staring blankly at his homework. Dean walked over and threw the bag of bread, and the jar of peanut butter and jelly already combined, that they had been eating for the last week onto the table. Dean turned around and went to a plastic bag on a chair, and threw Sam a bag of chips. Dean turned again and shuffled to his duffle, came back, and banged a can of salt onto the table.

“I’m going out,” sat with no room for argument, and slammed to the door behind him.

_I’m going out. Here’s your dinner, eat it. Check the salt lines. Don’t be stupid._


	3. 2014 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now it's time for Cas to get some comfort.

Sam’s eyes blinked blearily open, and instantly met Cas’s, who happened to be watching at Sam at that moment. Cas seemed to still have some freaky angel mojo when it came to knowing where to be right before something happened. He just didn’t know what would happen. Sam’s eyes widened and Cas instantly recognized the “help I am going to puke” face. He extracted himself from Dean as quickly but gently as possible, grabbed the trashcan by Dean’s desk, and pushed it in front of Sam, right in time, as Sam leaned over the couch and vomited. 

Cas rubbed Sam’s back and moved his hair away from his face, but sam flinched away at Cas’s mistake. Cas started to cry again. This was too much. He was tired. He just wanted the people he loved to be okay, why was that so much to ask after all Sam and Dean had done for the world? A world that doesn’t even care? 

Dean woke up instantly at the sound of Sam’s retching, and ran around to the other side of Sam.

“Are you done, kiddo?” 

Sam nodded tentatively. Cas eased him back onto the couch, and lying so he was on his left side. The doctors recommended that would help his stomach feel better while lying down. Sam didn’t really think so, but it didn’t hurt, so they continued to do it. 

Sam threw his arm over his eyes, but Cas was sniffling. He lowered his arm. 

“Cas?” Sam asked in alarm. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” 

Dean’s head snapped to Cas and looked him over critically. “You’ve been crying for a while, why have you been crying and why are you crying now? What’s wrong baby?” 

Cas just shook his head, back and forth, fiercely. He then stood up, and all but ran out of the room, and up the steps.

Sam pushed himself up with a grunt and his vision tilted. 

“Whoa, whoa Sam. What are you doing?” Dean pushed him back down and placed his hands on Sam’s knees to prevent Sam bringing them over the couch to stand up. 

Sam looked at him bewildered. “To go to Cas!”

Dean shook his head. “You aren’t going anywhere for a bit, kid. Sorry. Also, I think Cas needs a minute.” 

Sam sunk further into the couch and threw his arm back over his eyes. 

\--

San fell asleep again and Dean was left with a quiet house. He had an AA meeting that night but everyone was falling asleep.

Well fuck. 

Dean went out through the back door and wandered down to the lake with his hands in his pockets. 

He leaned down and picked up a pebble and threw it hard into the water. He kept throwing pebbles until his arm hurt. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and texted his sponsor. Dean had been really wary about the whole sponsor thing, but he decided to give it a try, plus it was basically required. He hadn’t like delved into anything deep with his sponsor, but they were getting there. He typed multiple sentences, and get hitting backspace before landing on a simple sentence. .

TO: Jacob Robinson 

I don’t want to go to the meeting tonight. Things are too rough.

TO: Dean Winchester

That is exactly when you should be going. How about we carpool and I pick you up and take you to the meeting? We can chat on the way there, and it’ll give you some accountability since you can’t run while sitting in a moving car that you’re not even driving.

TO: Jacob Robinson

Ha. Yeah...sure I guess that would be a good idea. I don’t wanna leave Sam and Cas alone though...and I don’t know what to do for dinner.

TO: Dean Winchester

One thing at a time. They will be fine. Gotta work on letting go right? You can’t always be there to take care of people. It’s just how it works. Also pizza.

TO: Jacob Robinson

Thanks. I’ll see you at 8?

TO: Dean Winchester

Sounds good. 

 

Dean sighed, put his phone back into his pocket, and ordered a pizza for delivery. It would have been cheaper to go pick it up but he didn’t want to leave Sam and Cas alone more than they already would be tonight. 

Walking back in the house, Sam was still asleep. He palmed his forehead again for fever. He still felt nothing even though had thrown up earlier. Dean was confused but he figured maybe he should try “counting his blessings” or whatever the fuck. It was time to check on Cas.

Dean climbed the steps, and pushed the bedroom door open slowly. Cas was lying on top of the made bed with a forest green comforter. He was on his stomach with his feet crossed, and was doing something in this sketchpad. 

“Hello, Dean” Cas said when Dean pushed the door all the way open. He continued to sketch, even after Dean walked into the room completely. Dean studied Cas’s face for a moment. Cas’s eyes were dry, but red and puffy, the classic look of someone having just had a long hard cry. Dean walked into the bathroom, and came back with a glass of water.

“Drink this,” Dean said.

“I’m good thanks,” Cas said without looking up.

“Jesus Christ Cas, you had me drink water earlier, so please just take the cup and drink at least some of it.”

Cas’s hand stopped moving on the page. He held it out to his side and waited for Dean to place the glass into his hand. Cas still would not look at Dean.

“Why won’t you look at me, baby?”

Cas remained silent by drinking the water without stopping.

“If you are going on some tirade in that head of yours about how you aren’t strong enough for this family, or you are supposed to be the pillar of strength. Or that you should be able to handle everything just fine, it’s bullshit. It’s complete bullshit, to put it quite frankly Cas.” 

Cas still wouldn’t look at him. Dean sighed.

“Come on Cas, you think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re taking a page from my playbook and acting stoic so you don’t have to deal with the fact that you had a vulnerable moment. Like everyone else. LIke a person.”

Cas’s head snapped up at that. “Like a person,” he echoed quietly. “If...if I were still an angel...I could be there for you and Sam in a much better way, and so much more…useful.” 

 

Cas pulled himself up so he was sitting on his knees with his hands resting on his thighs, and his head down. Cas’s hair was getting too long, it flopped onto his forehead with his head bent. He had refused to let Dean cut it though because he didn’t know if he wanted long hair or short hair, and he seemed to forget that hair would grow back every time so much as mentioned the word scissors. 

“Oh Cas,” Dean scooted closer to Cas slowly, giving Cas the opportunity to make it clear that he wanted more space. “Is that what this is about?” 

Cas hadn’t moved away, but hadn’t moved forward either. He sniffed. “Yes, I could...could heal Sam, or at least ease his pain and make him more comfortable. I could ease your pain too. I could just work situations so they work out, so that we can make ends meet every month, and more…Did I use that phrase correctly?” 

Dean smiled softly. “Yeah, Cas, you used ‘make ends meet’ correctly.”   
Cas gave Dean a watery smile, before choking out, “If I were still fully had my grace, if I were not just barely an angel…”

Dean tried moving closer, and Cas finally closed the distance between them. They sat crossed legged facing each other, with Cas’s head dropped onto Dean’s chest. Dean’s hands were on his shoulders, his thumbs moving in soothing circles. 

“For starters, I’ve never met an angel that can cure addiction. And you told me you’re not even sure angels are capable of that. You are also allowed to have support. I am sorry if too much was put on you lately. You do not have to have amazing powers to be loved. You are always our angel.” 

Quiet tears streamed down Cas’s face as Dean said. He pulled away from Dean’s chest to look into his eyes. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Dean smiled, and held Cas’s face with his hands. He took his thumbs and wiped Cas’s tears. 

Dean made to get off the bed, before turning back to Cas. “I think we should talk about the whole ‘I must support everyone and I need to be an angel’ thing you got going on here, though…”

Cas sighed. “I don’t want to right now.”

Dean shrugged. “Honestly neither do I. But sometime soon, yeah?” 

Cas nodded. 

Dean left the room while saying “I’m ordering a pizza for dinner.” He did not hear Cas mutter under his breath “and it is time to talk about your damn knees sometime soon”.


End file.
